


Of Broken Legs and a Missing Bunny

by FlaxenHairedSamurai



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Broken Bones, Child Death, Gen, Grave Hunting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, based on a comment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 19:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15031814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlaxenHairedSamurai/pseuds/FlaxenHairedSamurai
Summary: After an accident with one of Leliana's nugs, Cole is laid up with a broken leg. During his recovery, he's reminded of a few unpleasant truths of being human and what the real Cole lost before the Templars came for him.





	Of Broken Legs and a Missing Bunny

**Author's Note:**

> So this is dedicated to the lovely Len, who aside from putting up with my constant replies was nice enough to give me a few ideas for more Cole stories. 
> 
> This would've been up earlier, but I've just gotten over the worst of an illness, and can finally face my laptop again.

As he tugged on the next hairpin, Dorian paused when Evelyn whined softly, her shoulders hunching in pain. “Not many more now.” He promised, setting the pin down on his side table next to several of its brethren, and a few lock-picks that Josephine had been forced to resort to late in the styling. “Maker, she really didn’t want you pulling this out, did she?”

Eventually, the last of the pins was out, and with a few strokes of the brush just to make sure no more were lurking in wait, Dorian was able to pull Evelyn back to her feet and present her with the bouquet of ornaments. “Thank you, that’s the last time I let Josephine anywhere near my hair.” The Inquisitor sighed. The lock-picks went into their pouch on her waist, while the pins and slides were hastily shoved in a pocket to be forgotten about until they pricked her later.

“I would’ve thought the youngest Trevelyan would be used to such intricate styles.” Dorian commented, returning to his seat and the book he had been reading until Evelyn had thrust the hairbrush at him. When she blinked in confusion, the Tevinter gave his eyebrows a meaningful wiggle, “All those young men to impress, those marriages to arrange.”

Evelyn scoffed, even as she pulled her hair back into its tie, paying no attention to the many strands escaping. “Hardly. The older ones married, the younger ones serve the Maker, and the _youngest_ was supposed to choose her role after the Conclave. Until then there was no real point in fancy hairstyles.”

“Albrecht always tugs, ‘Little cousin trying to look grown up’, ruins the maid’s work, wasted an hour. Later, ‘Too awkward for marriage yet too wild for the Chantry’ says Mother. Father laughs and ruffles my head, sends it flying higher still.”

“Exactly. Well said, Cole.” The spirit turned flesh smiled faintly at the praise, returning Dorian’s wave before continuing up the next flight of stairs into the rookery. Watching him go, Evelyn indulged in a smile of her own, even as she leant against the shelves, “It’s hard to believe that not long ago he could’ve gone by ten times and we might not have noticed him.”

“Speak for yourself, dear Inquisitor, I find it quite easy to ignore the comings and goings of others when I’m up here. Then again, I do have to agree.” Dorian gave a mischievous grin, raising his voice a little, “Though I understand some people were less than pleased with your decision.” When there was no immediate reply, his face fell, eyes going to the banister. “I said, I understand some people were less pleased by your decision, Evelyn.” Silence again followed, the Altus actually pouting.

Knowing full well that Solas had left to get some more painting supplies, Evelyn only shrugged, whatever she was going to say next getting lost in the sudden cry from the stairwell, along with the six or seven thuds and shattering noises that followed close behind. With a shared look of horror, Evelyn and Dorian charged for the stairs, closely followed by the others in the library, and from the sounds of things, everyone in the rookery as well.

At the top, a nug was frozen to the spot, only budging when Leliana scooped it up and handed it to one of her agents, giving stern instructions to set the animal somewhere where he wouldn’t trip anyone else. With that done, she ordered Helisma to fetch a healer, and all but jumped the rest of the way down.

Cole lay sprawled two stairs from the bottom, surrounded by broken crockery and a worrying amount of red liquid. His face was a mixture of pain and confusion, even as he tried to sit up, and Evelyn didn’t doubt that his twisted leg had something to do with that. Realising what he was attempting, Dorian moved to his side, gently but firmly pushing him down by the shoulder. “Easy Cole, we’d better wait for the healer. That was quite a nasty tumble.”

Light as his words were, Evelyn heard the faint trace of worry, her eyes darting to the stains again. Catching her look, Leliana shook her head, “It’s just wine, Inquisitor. Cole was kind enough to come and fetch my plate from lunch for the kitchen, and he must’ve picked the jug up as well.”

“Small, curious, not meaning harm. Is the nug alright?” Cole asked worriedly, not even wincing when Dorian starting examining his twisted leg.

“Yes Cole, Mopsa will be fine. Let’s worry about you for now.”

Dorian, encouraged by the lack of reaction, started to gently probe Cole’s leg, only to recoil in horror when his patient gave a soft whine. “Hurt, twisted, broken. It won’t do what it’s told.” Before anyone could try to reassure him, Helisma returned, two healers carrying a stretcher right behind her. With a few polite requests, everyone backed away to let them work, Evelyn covering her mouth in horror when they began to poke at him as well. Thankfully, it wasn’t too long before a broken leg was tentatively diagnosed, Cole breathing in obvious relief when they left him alone to sort the stretcher out.

When they tried transferring him though, whatever shock he’d been holding onto evaporated and it was an ugly sound that Solas returned to, full of suffering and fear. It wasn’t too long before the source appeared in the rotunda, and he gave a meaningful look to the Inquisitor as she went by, clinging tightly to Cole’s hand and promising in a soft tone that the pain would be gone soon. Choosing to ignore him this once, Evelyn switched tactics, and began telling Cole all about the time her brother had broken _his_ leg, and all the attention that was showered on him, and that Cole could now look forwards to.

She couldn’t tell if it was actually working, but Cole did stop screaming after a while, even if he refused to let go of her hand until it was all over.

* * *

Of everything he was learning about since deciding to become more human, Cole decided that he didn’t like having a broken leg. It didn’t hurt like it had, and Blackwall had been more than willing to adjust the crutches he was given, but he still found himself largely confined to the tavern or the room in the main keep that everyone told him was his now. How was he supposed to help people?

“It’s just for a while.” Evelyn promised, sensing his frustration. She and Varric were constant visitors, with the dwarf having moved all his writing gear into Cole’s room to keep the young man company. That part Cole didn’t mind so much, because Varric would occasionally read what he had written, and Cole could tell him which parts he liked.

“Which usually tends to be everything.” Varric had chuckled when they’d explained the arrangement, “I wish all the critics were this easy to please.”

It wasn’t just not being able to help people that was making Cole’s recovery harder though. Each night, after Varric had packed up while promising to return in the morning with breakfast, another novelty of being human Cole was coming around to, the real Cole’s ( _“You’re real too now, why not call him the ‘other’ Cole_?” asks the Inquisitor gently) memories crept into the Fade with him, disturbing the already shaky peace Solas had helped him find there.

His body was so easily broken now, just like the rea- other Cole’s. It wasn’t just nugs and stairs that could hurt him, people could as well. All too often he found himself back in that cupboard, _hiding, holding, hushing, hoping_ that Evangeline and Rhys would be there to pull him from the nightmare again.

Somebody did come in the end, taking Bunny from his arms carefully, holding her on one hip while he pulled Cole out as well. “Come, we’ll find her somewhere better to rest.”

In the Fade, his leg was still whole, and he easily followed Solas, walking through what felt like a thousand locations. They paused at each one, Solas asking his opinion on each, before they moved on. Every spot was beautiful, full of life and flowers that Bunny would’ve loved to run through, but none felt right. Cole knew that time moved differently in the Fade, but with each area he turned down, he felt dawn encroaching, and feared that they wouldn’t make it in time.

And then they stumbled onto a hillside, covered in trees that hid them from the farms below. Little sunlight was able to break the cover, but where it did, wildflowers and weeds grew, daisies and dandelions in equal measure. Cole brushed against a tree, and remembered hiding behind it once, not for safety but for fun. When Bunny approached, he circled it until she finally caught him, and then it was her turn to hide.

When he turned to tell all this to Solas, it was to see the elf was already setting her down, gently holding her head until his fingers were touching the grass. “Which flowers did she like?” He asked, and with a nod, Cole began gathering armfuls of everything. As he picked, new ones sprung up in their place, but he only quit when he could hold no more. Then they went not on her chest, but by her side, so she could see them when she woke up.

In the morning, when Cole opened his eyes, Solas was there too, in the Inquisitor’s seat, “When your leg is better, we should visit her.” The elf rose with a small smile, “Hopefully that should make the time pass a little quicker.”

* * *

The village had little to differentiate itself from the others they had travelled to, bar the fact that travelling without the Inquisition’s heraldry meant they were stared at less. This was a trip for Cole, and so Evelyn wore a light hood, and Solas had agreed to leave his staff at the last Inquisition camp they had come across. Even so, Cole kept up a quiet report of which people needed what help, Evelyn and Varric doing their best to remember it so they could come back later with what they needed.

The closer they drew to the small Chantry building though, the quieter Cole got until he drew completely silent. Evelyn gave his hand a comforting squeeze, while Varric patted his wrist, careful of the daisies and dandelions Solas had insisted they stop to gather from a specific hill on the way. The bouquet wasn’t as big as it had been in the Fade, but Cole didn’t think Bunny would mind.

None of them knew the other Cole’s full name, and even their Cole wasn’t too sure, so they walked the graveyard in its entirety, reading each grave in the hopes that one would feel right. Yes, it would’ve been easier to go inside and ask the Chantry mother, but they were already an anonymous group leaving flowers at a grave. Getting out of here without having to answer questions would already be a miracle.

At last, Cole paused at a stone, face twisting in disgust before moving onto the next, and then to the one after. There he fell to his knees, ignoring the call that he watch his leg. With trembling hands he put the bouquet down, not to the side, but on top, so that Bunny would know they were there.

As he began talking to her, the others silently moved away, and Cole briefly wondered how they had known he wanted to be alone.


End file.
